Exasperated!!!
I just spent several hours writing up the next part - I wasn't finished - my cursor disappeared so I clicked on the backspace button to find it and the whole thing disappeared!
My computer must have BTs in it.
All that work down the drain.
Okay, here we go again.
So....Back in comm with my parents.
I made arrangements for them to meet me at the Religious Freedom Crusade that I was going to in Anaheim, CA. It was the first time we'd seen each other in a couple of years. I was very uneasy about meeting with them, so I asked a friend to hang with me for moral support while they were there and he did. My father was critical of the Scientology artists in the art exhibit and made snide remarks about Scientology. He was rather unpleasant to be around. He then took us to dinner. It was not a comfortable day.
My father decided I needed a phone so that he could talk to me - so he installed a phone in my apartment.
My mother decided I needed medical insurance, so she bought me medical insurance.
I didn't need either of these, they did.
I mentioned to my mom that I was trying to fix up the apartment. She sent me a check for $100. I used it to fix up the apartment.
I went home for Christmas. I bought them a polaroid instant camera and turns out they bought me one too. We then sent pictures back and forth. I took pictures of the apartment and my roommates trying to give them some reality on how I lived.
I felt really bad that Christmas because I had so little money and no car to go home. It was a hastle to go shopping on a bus to find something for them. When I went home, I walked to the bus station with my cart full of presents, like a bag lady, got on the bus and my parents picked me up in downtown LA at the bus station. Then they had to take me to the train station after the holidays. I only lived 2 hours from their house by car, but I didn't have one to drive myself there. I felt it was demeaning to live like this, but I still gave every extra penny I had to the Reg. Somehow I thought Scientology was going to make my life better so I wouldn't have to live like this anymore.
While I was home for Christmas, I gave my mother a touch assist. Afterwards she wrote me check for $100. She wouldn't just let me do something for her. My parents didn't always have money. My mother grew up very poor and my father didn't have much. They went through the depression together and together they made what they had. They probably thought I was totally off my nut to be living my life of poverty. I never could do anything for my parents. They always had everything and there was never anything I could buy for them or do for them that they didn't already have. They always gave me a lot and did a lot for me. Sometimes I got very upset over this.
Shortly after Christmas I got sick. I went into the Org for some help. I passed out on the stairs and somebody picked me up and carried me back to the apartment. Somebody else came along and gave me a touch assist for about 8 hours. I couldn't breathe, so someone else finally decided to take me to the emergency hospital. They put me on a breathing machine and opened up my breathing and the doctor asked me some questions. I told the doctor I had eaten some raw cheese. I was told not to do that because there are over 200 different things one can contract from raw milk or raw cheese if it's contaminated. They gave me antibiotics and tried to give me drugs, but I refused the drugs and had to sign a release form on that. I took the antibiotics and got well. I never ate raw cheese or raw milk again. I guess touch assists don't do anything to kill off bad bacteria. There can certainly be a danger in thinking that Scientology can handle something when it really can't.
One time when I was talking to my mother, she informed me that she couldn't do Scientology this lifetime because of my father. She said she would have to divorce him to do it and she said she couldn't do that.
Later on my parents decided to come visit me in San Diego. When I came walking home from work and saw their beautiful brand new blue 7 passenger Fleetwood Cadillac parked outside my apartment building, I felt so poor it hurt. When I sat in the back seat of that car it was such a luxury...I'd forgotten what it was like to have really nice things. I'd given up any of that for my spiritual freedom.
I had a friend from Mexico who would come and spend the weekends at my apartment while she was on course at the Org. My parents took us out to dinner while they were visiting. It was a nice evening.
In the morning I went with my parents out to breakfast. At breakfast I mentioned something about past lives. My father said he didn't want to know anything about his past life. He said that he was probably a cattle rustler and didn't want to know anything about it.
After breakfast they dropped me off at the Goodwill where I did my usual Saturday morning shopping and then they came back and picked me up later. It was the only place I could afford to buy clothes. I don't think they understood why I had given up college, a career and a better life for this one of poverty. The reason that I had been going to college in the first place was so that I would have a job I liked and I wouldn't have to live like this. Boy, did I get side tracked - I fell for this Route to Total Freedom, hook, line and sinker. I believed it totally.
While they were hanging around, they decided to move to San Diego. I think it was on Sunday morning I went looking at houses with them. Big, beautiful, brand new houses near the water. They lived on a lake, but my mother had always wanted to live near the ocean. I was a bit nervous with the idea of them living so close to me.
In the evening we went out to eat. The Org was promoting some special discount training packages that I really wanted - training up thru Class V XDN. I couldn't see how I would ever get these paid for at the rate I was going, so I asked my parents if they would help me with this. My father said NO! My mother looked at him and pulled out her checkbook and wrote me a check for the whole thing. Then she said...You need some auditing (I felt like it was an inval) and wrote me a check for some auditing. I took it and gave it to the Reg later. They went back to LA and I continued working and going on course.
I kept coming home after work to find that my SO roommates had come home to eat and left piles of dishes and pots and pans in the sink. I got tired of the mess and it eventually turned into a fight and I wrote them up and they then got another place to live. I found after getting back together with my parents, I didn't want to live in such messy conditions any more. We had gotten along okay up until then. My standards had changed a bit now. I wanted better.
Sometime after this, a friend at the org had a pretty little Volkswagen for sale and my parents bought it for me so that I could have a car to drive. On the weekends, I used to take some of the Org staff grocery shopping and it totally amazed me how they could eat so well for $10 a week. They could live on practically nothing. It hurts me to think how SO and staff were and are treated financially so that Hubbturd and the Devil Midget could live in such luxury. At the time, none of us knew where the money was going.
The GO wanted me to do some special work for them, but I had to be bonded for it, so we went to the bank and I got bonded. This meant that I could never talk to anybody, even an auditor about what I worked on. I did the work, but it really bothered me that I had to never talk about this or else I had to pay them a whole lot of money. I was very uncomfortable about this. I never could see what the big secret was all about or why it had to be so confidential.
When the govt break in at the Complex happened, it was really scary to me. I was so worried....all we were told was that the govt had broken in and took files and broke in on people sleeping in berthing areas. I was so upset that I wanted to quit work and help out with the GO full time. I called my mom and asked her if she would help me out a bit with this. My father said NO! I could hear him bitching about the church in the background. After we hung up my mom sent me a check so that I could help out, which I did.
Then I went back to work doing temp work at various places, since I now had a car to get around in - Ah...what a luxury to be able to drive places.
The GO asked me would I please go to the airport and pick up a Scientologist who had been deprogrammed? Sure. I went and picked her up. Turns out it was someone I knew. I brought her back to my apartment where the GO debriefed her. Her brother in law had got her mother to pay for deprogramming. She was on staff at the mission and hadn't been in very good comm with her mother because she was so busy. Her mother told her that there was going to be a family reunion and sent her a ticket to come home and visit with the family. She went and when she got there, her mother picked her up and took her to a strange house. They got out of the car and when they got to the house and went inside, she was met with deprogrammers who locked the door behind her and wouldn't let her out. She spent 2 days there while they abused her, trying to get her to give up Scientology. She kept her TRs in and finally the deprogrammer, who was an ex Scientologist asked her if she thought he was an SP. She said something like...well, you're sure acting like one. After 2 days, her mother couldn't stand watching what they were doing to her, so she called it off and took her back to the airport and bought her a ticket back to San Diego, where I picked her up. She was pretty shook up and I was horrified. I thought deprogrammers were really awful people. She got herself back together and went back on staff. What a horrible experience.
One time, while living there, I remember someone from the Org who had a problem with his back. He came over to my apartment. I gave him a touch assist. He was laying down on the floor. He passed out cold in the middle of the assist. He was out for what seemed like about 10 minutes. I just kept giving him the command to feel my finger in the same spot and eventually he came around. When we were done, his back problem was gone. I loved giving touch assists. They always worked out so well for me. This is what kept me going.
There was one staff member who came to stay with me in that apartment. She didn't have any money. She had been sent to Flag for training and the Org was paying her way. After she got there, it was okay for a while, but then the Org quit paying for her accomodations there. Flag put her to work in the kitchen, washing dishes until her hands were raw. She was trapped there, washing dishes, with no money and no way to get home - forget about the training. I thought that was really awful that the Org would treat her that way - just send her there and then abandon her that way. She finally made it back to San Diego and I gave her a place to stay to help her out. What a horrible way for the Org to treat their staff. What people have gone through in Scientology in the name of freedom is absurd.
After my parents had visited me in San Diego, they decided not to move there because my mother needed to be near UCLA because of her illness.
Sometime after that I came home one day to a phone call from my father. "Would you please come home. Your mother is going to die soon.
My mother now had aplastic anemia. The radiation treatments she had undergone for her cancer had destroyed the part of the bone marrow that produces blood platelets and she had to live on weekly transfusions or die. Panic! I ran to the Org and got an okay from ethics to leave, routed off course, went home and packed up everything I owned in the little Volkswagen, turned my apartment over to the above staff member who was staying with me (because she had no money) to clean it all up for me so that I could get my deposit back on the apartment. I left town and moved into my parents house to be with my mom and help to take care of her for the short time she had left. Now I really wanted to be with my parents and Scientology took a back seat for a while.
My mother hatted me on what I needed to know and set me up as trustee of the family trust to take care of things after she was gone.
This was our last Christmas together. I couldn't figure out what to get someone who's going to die soon. I saw an adorable white teddy bear in the department store and I brought that home and set it out Christmas morning from Santa Claus.
It was something to play with and the bear sat at end of the dining room table kind of like an extra person there. We would talk to the bear and the bear would talk to us (pretend of course). It helped to lighten the atmosphere I guess - kind of like having a pet, but not.
My mother told me, before she died, that she had gone to a field auditor sometime after she blew Scientology.
?
She never said what they did or what was run. She did mention to me shortly before she died that she thought the she and my father had been together in a previous life. So, she did believe in past lives. She also told me shortly before she died, to not let my father interfere with my doing Scientology.
My mother was having to get transfusions more often now and one day she was in the hospital for more test and she told the doctor she'd had enough and didn't want any more. He didn't want to let her go. He thought maybe some cure might cone along. I agreed with her. She had suffered enough. My father didn't want to let her go either, but I talked with him and he let her have her way. The doctor said she would only last maybe a week without transfusions. She had it all planned. She told me to call hospice and gave me the phone number. Hospice sent a doctor and a nurse to the house. The nurse stayed at night so that I could get some sleep. It was one week of hell for everybody. The last day, she was in awful pain. My father had a bottle of morophine in the bathroom which he went and got along with a hypodermic. He had me help him to give her a shot of morophine. He then went and called the hospice doctor to come because she was dying. The doctor came and brought a psychologist with him.
My mother did not like shrinks and me being a Scientologist, I didn't want her there either, but my father did. She stayed and talked with my father a bit, then they all came to my mom's bedroom an we all gathered around her. The psychologist tried to get my father to say things to my mother. My mother got real irritated with that. Then she cupped her left hand like she had food in it and with her right hand started feeding herself - like she was eating popcorn. It was frieky. (A morophine dream?) Then the death rattle and she was gone. April 15, 1978. I often wondered if my father had ODed my mother on the morophine when he gave her that shot. He did believe in euthanasia. That used to trouble me. But he would never be able to say if he did. What a horrible withhold to have if he did.
She also had given me the number of the Neptune Society to call after she died. I called and they were there within the hour. 2 huge guys followed me up the stairs and one took her head and the other her feet. I suddenly felt she was embarrassed with just her pajamas, so I threw her robe over her body to cover her up while the guys were picking her up. She was stiff as a board - didn't bend in the middle.
(So that's why they call a dead body a stiff.) I followed them downstairs while they loaded her into their wagon and hoped they wouldn't do anything wierd with her. After they left, I realized that I had forgot to take off her jewelry that she was still wearing. I called the Neptune Society and they brought the jewelry back. The guy who returned it wanted a date with me. Eww. Yuck. How disgusting. How disrespectful.
After she was taken away, my father wrote a check to Hospice for several hundred dollars for helping out. I was mad at him because he was donating money to a group that deals in death and he wouldn't give to a group dealing in life, like Scientology. He was just helping out those who helped him in a time of need. I couldn't see that. I was too stuck in Scientology think.
She didn't want a funeral. She just wanted to be cremated and her ashes strewn at sea. So, instead of a funeral, my father had a barbeque and invited friends over to the house.
So, where does my life go from here?
More later.